A Flower in the Dust
by BearandtheBow
Summary: After Mother Gothel fails to double-cross the Stabbingtons, Rapunzel is forced to travel with them. Rated M for language, later chapters and whatnot.
1. Chapter 1

**This story has been on a flash drive forever. I know some of the writing is super corny, but it's more or less finished and that's really something for me. I'm going to spread out the updates to once a week so I can feel reliable or something.**

* * *

She couldn't believe this was happening. Mother was right – so right. She was foolish enough to think a thief could have fallen or her, and now she was here, tied up in the back of a cart. How could she be so stupid?

Rapunzel was too shocked to even cry, not that she even wanted too. She didn't want to waste her tears on Eugene, on any of this.

Every once in while, she turned her focus to listen in on the men, who ranted about some "old lady".

The cart stopped. "We can stay here for a while. Lay low for a couple days until everything blow over." She heard them walking toward her. With each crunching sound the gravel made beneath their steps, she felt herself die a little inside. One of them grabbed her by her waist and slung her over his shoulder. Her blindfold slipped a little during the jerking movement, and she saw nothing but the forest around them. Their boots hit wood, and she turned. A cabin. A cabin in the middle of no where. She hadn't been out of her tower long enough to see anything remotely familiar – she wouldn't make it on her own if she managed to escape. Even though she had no sense of time since they took her, she could see the sky beginning to lighten – reaffirming the distinct feeling they had been traveling for several hours, without coming across a single soul.

The door creaked open. One of them made their way around the room, lighting lamps. She was tossed onto a bed.

"So...How exactly do you go about selling a girl with magic hair?"

Silence.

"What? I'm just saying – people will probably think we're just ripping them off for a prostitute."

"Why not just make her a prostitute then? Might be fun."

She heard a smack.

"Are you kidding me?" the man sighed. "Look, I don't know much about magic, but from what we've been told, _the girl controls the hair_. We can't ruin her for quick cash until we find a buyer. The healing is where the money's at."

"Fine." the other replied curtly. "I'll go unload the cart."

There were steps coming toward he now. A few seconds passed before the blindfold was roughly yanked off her face, and she was met with a pair of steely blue eyes. "Hello, lovely." he grinned, which caused her to feel sick to her stomach. He moved behind her, to her hair, carefully pulling out flowers and releasing a long, thick strand from the braid. He tied it to the bed post – yanking it to re-assure it would not easily come undone – before cutting the bonds from her hands and ankles.

"We might be here for a while." he grunted and settled next to her. "Don't want to have to untie you or carry you around every five minutes."

Her face was hallow; unreceptive. She stared at him, as if searching for an answer to this whole mess. Sighing deeply, she curled up on the bed, facing away from her captor. One of the flowers from her hair slipped onto her face. She plucked it out, smiling sadly at the memories of yesterday, and all the promises of a new dream, before letting it fall to the floor.

* * *

She couldn't actually sleep. She only pretended until she heard both men snoring before creeping of the bed to explore her new prison. There wasn't much : a tiny kitchen, a washroom, a couple closets with some blankets. There were bags and crates full of things in front of the door, but she left those alone. There was also desk in the far corner, in which she found a large stack of parchment, ink that was still good, and few quills and charcoal pencils. At least these would provide a welcome distraction. She found a thin piece of plywood and settled into the nook in front of the window, sketching the forest around them as the light of dawn finally made her surroundings clear.

The sun was fully up before she heard the men start to stir. She froze – would they be angry that she moved? The man claimed to tie her by her hair so she would have more mobility, but that didn't mean he wanted her to wander around – even if was within the same room. Mother always said if she ever left and was captured, she would be treated cruelly, beaten and tortured, most likely. Her heart raced as the one she had shared a bed with stretched out and rolled over. Could he sense she was no longer beside him?

The answer was yes : he could. Immediately after shifting his sleeping position, he bolted awake, frantically feeling at the bed before glancing at the bedpost to see her hair still secured there, and then catching sight of her in the window. He glared at her. "What they hell are you doing up?"

"Well, I-I..." she stuttered.

"Get. Over here. Now."

Cautiously, she got up and walked toward the bed, setting the sketch down on the small table next to them before sitting on the edge of the bed. The man reach a hand out, placing it under her chin and lifting it to meet his gaze. "You move when we tell you to. Remember that." He looked her up and down before releasing her. With that, he got up, walking over to his brother and shaking his shoulder.

"Byron."

The brother rose silently.

"I need you to go find supplies. We'll need more food...and clothes for her if you can find any. She'll need something less conspicuous to wear when we leave."

He nodded and walked out. They heard him take off with one of the horses.

The other one walked outside to the well. She heard him dump water into the bath in the washroom through the window. After a few minutes, he came in and lit a fire beneath it. "Wash up." he told her.

"What?"

"Are you slow, girl? Wash. Up."

"Aren't you supposed to be torturing me, or something?"

The man looked at her, an exasperated expression on his face. "Do you want to stay dirty, or not?"

Rapunzel sighed and swung her braid to one side and picked the remainder of the flowers out, leaving them in a wilted pile at her feet. When she was finished, she stood up and began to undo the laces on the back of her dress.

"What are you doing?"

She looked up at him. "Am I really the slow one here? Do you take baths with clothes on? Because that's really not a good way to do it."

"No...just..." he sighed, rubbing his forehead. A few quick steps and he grabbed her hand and yanked her over, thrusting her into the washroom. He closed the door behind her.

Shrugging off the weird moment, she slipped off the rest of her clothes and into the bath. She wiped off the dirt from her earlier struggle against the brothers, then sat up to pick out any remaining twigs in her hair. When she was satisfied, she got out, drying herself off quickly with the cloth the man tossed in the bathroom after her before wrapping herself in it and walking out the door.

The first things she went to was the desk to grab more parchment. Who knew how long it would take for the one named Byron to get back, and she needed the distraction. On her way back to the bed, she noticed the man staring at her, his mouth hanging slightly open.

"What?" she asked.

"What is wrong with you?"

"Excuse me?"

"Undressing in front of strangers? Walking around practically naked? WERE you a prostitute?"

"A what?" she back away from him until she felt the back of her knees hit the bed.

The man paused, stood up strait, and took in a deep breath. "Forget it. Just...stay put." He went into the washroom.

Rapunzel sat down, confused. Was she kidnapped by idiots? She shrugged it off and went to her drawing. She was halfway through shading a sketch of Maximus when the washroom door opened. The man stepped out, clean, already in his pants and boots, but no shirt. She stared at him, enraptured, her hand going to grab a fresh piece of parchment. He walked across the room to the bags by the door, her eyes following him, her hands moving quickly across the page.

He must have sensed her stare because he stopped to turn at her. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing." she kept sketching.

He walked over to her. "What is that you're holding."

"Just...a drawing." her voiced squeaked.

He snatched it out from her, bringing it to his face. He looked back her, confused. "Why are you drawing me?"

"Well, um." she wrung her hands, still itching to draw more. "I've never seen, uh, that." She pointed to his pale, muscular chest.

"What?"

"Well, actually, I've never really seen guys much at all before. The first time I ever saw one was when...he...found me."

The man lowered his hand. "You're fucking joking."

Rapunzel fiddle with her hair. "No, actually." she smiled nervously. "My mom told me men were a lot more...horrifying to look at. That they had pointed teeth and just visibly evil - things like that."

He continued to stare.

"But, hey – maybe she was just bumping into a certain type of guy, because so far most of you seem to look alright." she was blabbering now, unable to stop. "But, anyway, obviously I'm kind of curious about the differences in our bodies, and, well, I just couldn't help it, I guess?"

"So you're telling me...that you never saw anyone other than women before the other day?"

"Yeah? And not really 'women', just, uh, my mom."

"You never saw other _people_ until the other day?"

He put his head in his hands, struggling to process the information she just told him. "Were you raised in a dungeon or something?"

"Tower, actually." she said, as if it made a difference.

He looked again at the drawing. It was pretty good actually, for a rough sketch. He handed it back to her. "It's, uh, really great. So, besides the fact that I'm the only shirtless male you've ever seen, what was so interesting about me to draw?" He sat next to her.

"I don't know." she blushed a little. Her mother had never been interested in her artwork. "You're a lot more muscular than my mom and I...and your scars are really interesting" She reached out and ran a finger across a particularly thick one on his bicep. He suddenly became very aware of the fact that she was naked under that thin piece of cloth. He stood and yanked his shirt over his head, walking towards the door.

"What's your name?" she called after him.

He turned back to her, already halfway outside. "Dorian."


	2. Chapter 2

Dorian sat outside to wait for his brother, his hand running across the spot on his chest where she touched him. He remembered how soft her hand felt.

A couple hours passed before he heard the sound of hooves signaling his brothers return.

Byron tossed a sack to his brother. "I think I may have found a solution for the girl."

Dorian rummaged through the sack, separating the clothes from the food. "Oh, yeah?"

"Remember what I said earlier about prostitution?"

His eyes narrowed. "Yes."

"Calm down, it's not quite like that." he continued. "In town, I caught wind of a Duke with a disabled son who's willing to shell out a lot of gold for a miracle...sounds pretty common, doesn't it?"

Suddenly, it dawned on him. "We sell her out as a healer?"

"Exactly." Byron grinned triumphantly.

It was an excellent plan – Dorian couldn't believe he hadn't thought of it earlier. "Should we leave tonight?"

"There's no rush. Not like someone else is going to heal the kid before we get there. Sometime tomorrow maybe." he walked over to the back of the cart to dump some oats in the bucket for the horses. "What's the girl like?"

Dorian frowned. "Odd."

Byron snorted. "What I meant to ask was – did she try to escape? Beg for you to let her go or anything?"

"No. It seems like she's...used to being trapped." he remembered her comment about living in a tower.

His bother dusted off and stood up. "Well, good for us I guess."

They walked back to the cabin together, Byron stunned to find the girl practically nude. "Is she...?"

"Strange? I told you." Dorian walked over to her, tossing her new clothes onto her lap. "Go to the washroom and put these on." She nodded meekly and got up.

"What...what was that? Did you...?"

"No." he stonewalled. "According her she lived out in the middle of no where, never seeing anyone. She doesn't really seem to know, well, anything."

Byron's expression went from shocked to pleased. "You know, it looks like this whole thing is gonna work out easier than we thought."

* * *

Her new clothes were pretty average, compared to the now torn-up, colorful dress she was so used to wearing. But the material felt soft, and the gray color was very bright – definitely new (which she hadn't expected). She also had new cream-colored bloomers and stockings, and a pair of flat back shoes. She hadn't worn shoes in years. Mother used to buy them for her when she was younger, but she was always outgrowing them too fast, and she eventually decided they weren't worth buying anyway, as Rapunzel never traveled outside the tower.

She fished her corset out from her old dress on the floor and began getting dressed, leaving off the shoes and stockings – she would save those for when they actually left somewhere. There was also a deep purple cloak, to hide her hair, she supposed. She folded it over her arm and walked out. The brothers, who had been talking in low voices in the corner, stopped to look at her. Dorian nodded approvingly.

"Perfect. With the cloak on, no one will look twice at her."

She walked over to the bed. There was a plate with some bread, cheese, and a sausage on the nightstand. "Eat." Byron told her. "We have things to do."

Rapunzel climbed on the bed and tucked her legs beneath her. She nibbled on the food while she put finishing touches on the days sketches, pausing on Dorian's. Her cheeks glowed red, remembering how he thought her work was good. It was good, too. Charcoal was messy, making it a material she rarely used, but she had managed to achieve good definition in this particular sketch – from the shadowing on his muscles to the scars. Gingerly, she set in in the desk, hoping it wouldn't somehow smudge. She wondered if she could go outside. Dorian HAD said to only wander while they were awake, and awake they were...but did that only apply when they were around? She shook her head and went outside anyway. It would be getting dark fairly soon, she could see the stars beginning to dot the sky on one side. She had made it through a day. A whole day. She was sad, but could not find it in her to cry for those who let her down : Flynn tricked her into feeling things for him and then betrayed her, and, while she loved her mother and wished she had gone with her when she had the chance, she had still lied about a lot of things. As much as she was hurting, she knew it was useless to drain herself by leaving her thoughts lingering on them. And while it wasn't the ideal situation, she still had the hope to be free. She would make the best of this; she was a survivor.

She walked over to the horses, and they nuzzled her. She rubbed each of their noses before walking on. Their was a small bank of wildflowers growing on the side of the cabin, and she sat down (her knees under her, so as not to ruin the new dress) in front of them, taking in their vibrant colors and scents. She watched the sun set over the unfamiliar woods and mountains.

Yes, she thought. It may not be the best deal, but she could still get the chance to experience more of the world.

Dorian and Byron came back just after the sun set, arms full of firewood. "Hey girl." Dorian yelled. "Inside."

Reluctantly, she pushed herself off the ground and met them at the door. "It's Rapunzel."

"Ok, sure then." Byron said mockingly. "get in the cabin _Rapunzel_."

She grudgingly sat back down on the bed, arms crossed, watching them warily as they tossed the logs into the fireplace, lighting them on fire. They took out a couple blankets from a bag, tossing one at her. After glancing at the window, she noticed it was completely dark out now. Might as well go to sleep, she thought, unfolding the blanket. It was very nice, made of soft wool and lined with some kind of fur. She wrapped herself in it, drawing a deep breath before settling into a fitful sleep.


End file.
